waiting for jamie...

these are some new lyrics, i hope you enjoy them. if you'd like to hear the demo of the song, shoot me an email (i don't want to post it up here, but don't mind sharing it with a few friends...)

"waiting for jamie."
lyrics by ryan somers aka fritz tha cat
[(c) 2009 seriously, don't bite it.]

if this is the first day of the rest of my life,
i might as well climb up and take a dive,
and do a couple flips, and try to jack knife,
and even if i belly-flop, at least i tried,
a thief in the night? nah, in broad daylight,
i'll take what i need, right, make it mine,
take my time, 'cause really there's no rush,
no ifs, ands, or buts, there's only do, no try,
do you know why? i'm thinking only the gods do,
so many people in this world try to con you,
look at my finger, no, look at the moon,
well, what do we have here? there is no spoon,
and this ain't no tune about "do what i do,"
like i was painting cherry blossoms and writing haikus,
truth to truth is, only you can be you,
and if i can be me for a minute, then i'll be fine too...

when i was trying to find you, i wasn't sure where to look,
you're an unlisted number, the world's a telephone book,
my fingers kept walking, for so long, they collapsed,
woke up beside you, they started to dance,
i got into a groove, kept it smooth like slimkid,
jack and jill went up the hill and wrote a dirty limerick,
sipped some fine whisky, kissed, hide the hickies,
slipped and fell, slid down, feeling kinda dizzy,
i missed you for a minute, then i regained consciousness,
dug a well in heart, and found it was bottomless,
so maybe i oughta just, follow you around, for a while,
i like your style, plus you think profound things,
to make me sing loud, laughing, i'm clowning,
court jester turned crowned king, hey, so how's things?
i think i'm doing pretty good, pretty lady, finally,
judging by the clouds, and their many silver linings...

like ivy, climbing on brick, like the time ticks,
like a fine mist, like wondering "do i exist?,"
maybe i might just, get it, before it gets me,
so stealthy, this thing called empty,
maybe the weaponry we've been using is all wrong?
maybe we've all been singing the wrong songs?
a call to arms, against invisible foes,
i fire invisible arrows, i wonder where do they go?
well, maybe they know, and maybe they don't,
i won't put my faith in hearsay and say-so,
say it ain't play, though i doubt it's much more than that,
think about the plotlines, characters, format,
the whole stage show, it's all for their benefit,
a puppet on a string, like what to say, where to fit
into the whole thing? i wonder who's writing it,
i'll see inside the author's mind, when i just stop fighting it...

[this is the last song i wrote for the new OK COBRA album. matter of fact, i didn't even write it for this album. i spent the first two months of 2009 getting all my songs together for the album. thought i was finished. a day or two before i flew up to montreal to record, i woke up one day and wrote these lyrics in about 20 minutes. (i LOVE it when that happens!) in montreal, on our last day in the studio, we had finished everything we had set out to do, and had a couple of hours to kill. hanging out with mike, paula, and owain, taking some photos, sipping on jameson's, tim started playing a few beats, and i pulled out my notebook... "hey tim, i wrote this a couple of days ago, wanna try it out?" so we did, and i think it's my favourite thing we did for the record...]